


The Past

by quigonejinn



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quigonejinn/pseuds/quigonejinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The sound is turned down low; there is less about Raleigh and Mako than there would have been six months before.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Past

One night, Raleigh can't sleep. Partially, it's because he is tired of hotels and recycled air; partially, it's because he has been fighting with Mako. Small things: the way she always picks over her food like it isn't good enough to put in her mouth, the way he clears his throat during an interview instead of having a sip of water. Bigger things: the position she takes to the effect of _We closed the Breach once, but it will come back. We must be vigilant. We must be ready._ She wants to tell it to every reporter, every camera, but the scientists aren't sure. Even Newt says that the evidence is inconclusive, but Mako says it over and over to Raleigh, to handlers, to --

They fight about it; both of them say things that are hard to forgive, and Mako slams out of Raleigh's room. She sleeps in her room that night, even though her toothbrush and face cleanser and night cream are still by Raleigh's sink. For his part, Raleigh paces until he finds himself in the room at the end of the hall.

"You want a beer?" the Marshall asks. Room service brought up a six pack for him, and Raleigh glances at Max snoring on the floor with a hotel towel set underneath him to catch the drool.

"Sure," Raleigh says.

Hansen has propped the sliding door to the terrace open, and the TV is showing the local news. The sound is turned down low; there is less about Raleigh and Mako than there would have been six months before, and they watch for a while. Then, Hansen asks what he and Mako were arguing about. Raleigh is a little embarrassed, but old habits die hard: he explains to the Marshall, as briefly and neutrally as he can, before finishing with a limp, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you could hear us." 

The Marshall's room is three, four units down. The walls aren't thin: it's a nice hotel, and Hansen doesn't say anything for a beat. Then he gets up and goes to his the nightstand. When he comes back to the two armchairs drawn up around the TV, Raleigh sees that Hansen is holding a phone in his hand. Older, it looks like, banged up. A video is queued up. 

"Hit play," Hansen says, settling back into his chair and picking his beer up again. 

From the blurring and the size, the video was shot on another phone, transferred over at least once, Raleigh guesses. It's shot in a Shatterdome, because Raleigh recognizes the distinctive numbering on the wall in the background. Efficiency. It takes Raleigh longer to identify the people in the video. There are two of them. Kids, and after a little study, he realizes one of them is Mako. There are wide streaks of blue around her face, and her laugh is familiar. 

The other person, he realizes, is Chuck Hansen. 

How old are they? Twelve? Thirteen at the most? Awkward ages, but they're happy. Comfortable enough with each other to act silly, and they're almost the same height. Raleigh can see the outlines of their adult faces, even though Chuck's entire head is dyed the same color as the streaks in Mako's hair. The original video had been shot on his phone -- he runs forward and sets the phone down against a stand, then goes back to Mako. He says something to her, she says something in Japanese that the audio doesn't pick up, and Raleigh isn't sure that Chuck understood it either, but he says some words to her and convinces her. 

So: they stand next to each other, feet apart at shoulder-width, then slowly bring their hands together in sync in a reasonable approximation of the opening calibration move for a Jaeger standard sortie. 

Then, abruptly, Mako collapses laughing, and after looking at the last frame for a full heartbeat's time, with Chuck trying to pull Mako back into frame so they can do it again, actually together this time, without laughing, Raleigh hands the phone back to Hansen, who is watching him. A childhood in the Shatterdomes, playing only with other children who had lost family to the kaiju. Chuck's blue hair. Mako's streaks. Playing at being Jaeger pilots together. 

"They look like they were friends," Raleigh says. 

"They were," Hansen answers. 

"What happened?" 

A pause, and Hansen reaches over and puts the phone, gingerly, down on the coffee table.

"They went to Jaeger Academy," he says. "They found out that they weren't Drift compatible with each other."


End file.
